


When Angels Fall

by I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-26 05:11:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16675129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies/pseuds/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies
Summary: Jim Moriarty faked his death with help from Mycroft Holmes and agreed to go into exile. When an organization comes forward and starts targeting people with abilities, himself included, restarting the witch trials, he agrees to join forces and becomes one of the good guys. Assigned to be his handler is the beautiful and powerful Tempest, a woman from his past...if only he could remember her.





	1. A New Game

**Author's Note:**

> New project!  
> Hope you like!  
> Please read and review!

Jim Moriarty had two ways of looking at the twelve men in black suits that were waiting for him the minute he stepped off the private jet that had taken him all the way from New York to London; his jailers, watching and following his every move, more than prepared to take him down if he stepped a toe out of line, or his adoring fans that missed him so much they just couldn't wait to swarm him the minute he got off the plane. He chose to see it the second way; the first one was just too ordinary, after all. He'd selected the perfect song for his re-entrance into a city he had been exiled from for seven years. He'd been getting into American music, and had chosen a song that was popular at the moment and just fit him so well. It was 2017 after all! The first notes of Megan Trainor's 'Me Too' started playing as he stepped off the plane and was surrounded, as predicted. He grinned as he stopped and his little entourage stopped along with them. His headphones were in so they had no idea that he was timing his steps and pauses to the beat of the song perfectly. When the song was over, he clicked out of his music app on his phone and took his headphones out, sighing as he turned to one of the suits that seemed to be the leader as they got into the middle SUV among a small caravan of big black SUVs.  
“Am I to assume that you and your little pack back there are to be my handlers?” He asked him, batting his eyes flirtatiously as the man coughed, clearly uncomfortable with his actions, or just him. Oh, goody.  
“No, sir. We are just here to pick you up and deliver you to the boss safely.” He answered, adjusting his already perfect tie.  
“But Mycroft did say I would be given a handler, one who would be watching me at all times?” He clarified, in case the plans had changed again. With Mycroft Holmes, you never knew.  
“Yes, sir; the boss has assigned Tempest to you. Good luck.” The man muttered softly, making sure to emphasize the words the boss this time. So, his underlings were not allowed to call him by his name; interesting. A rule he would not be following. Working for him or not, they were still bloody equals.  
“Tempest's a total hard ass, huh?” He asked him still grinning; nothing he hadn't dealt with before.  
The man shrugged as he typed something on his smart phone. “You have no idea.” He cut off the rest of the conversation by putting his phone to his ear and talking to his team the whole time. Message received, Jim thought to himself as he waited patiently for the caravan to stop at his destination. Twenty minutes into being a good guy and, damn it, he was already bored! At least he would get to see Sherlock again, even if he couldn't kill him this time. He should have known that the eldest brother Holmes had arranged both of their deaths to be faked. Would truly have been a shame to lose such an asset to the British Crown, or a beloved younger brother. Sherlock had come back two years later and picked his life back up while he had been stuck in The States and Eurus Holmes lived out her little twisted revenge fantasy he had helped her create. He was not surprised that once again, Sherlock had survived a game that had been designed to kill him. Or that he was now happily engaged to a certain ex-girlfriend of his. Heh, good on them; only took a psychopath to make him realize what he felt for her. Love, what a completely ordinary emotion. Wasn't for him. Not that he'd tried very hard, but it had hardly been a lonely seven years exiled to the Americas. He imagined that he had left behind a trail of broken hearts. Not his fault, he told them the truth. He didn't do love or feelings; he did sex and good times.  
At last, they arrived at the giant nondescript office building that Mycroft Holmes was using as his headquarters since the last one had been bombed in one of the earlier attacks London had suffered as of late and the main reason why he was back. What better way to stop a criminal organization than to use someone who used to be the king of organizing crime? His temporary entourage waited patiently for him to collect his small carry on designer leather bag and then followed him into the building, where not surprisingly at all, he was searched, his bag and his suit, smiling and winking at the security guard frisking him who rolled his eyes at him. When he was given the all clear, he followed 'number one' as he had taken to calling him and got into the bullet proof glass elevator and rode it to the top floor. Anthea, Mycroft's most trusted assistant greeted the man with him warmly, her features turning cold when she faced him.  
“Anthea! So great to see you again, gorgeous!” Jim gushed as she rolled her dark eyes at him coldly.  
“He'll see you now.” Was all she said as she led him through the office. The overly tall office chair was turned dramatically away from the door when they walked in, so Anthea had him sit on the chair opposite the desk, as she walked to the desk. “Sir, he's here.”  
The chair turned slowly to reveal someone who was decidedly not Mycroft. The young woman smiled warmly at Anthea as she sighed, walking over to her, not at all surprised at her actions in the slightest.  
“What are you doing back? And what are you doing on his computer?” She asked the other woman warily.  
“Honeymoon was cut short; tried to kill me. Witch Hunter, needless to say. No longer married. Imagine my surprise when I found out I've been selected for a task, almost like Mycroft knew something about my marriage that I didn't. As for what I'm doing, I believe it's called shopping, dear. I'm taking my bonus early; if he cancels the order, the government will be shut down for the day. Don't worry, I got you something too.” Her storm cloud gray eyes glittered with mischief, and Jim couldn't help but feel drawn to the woman who had yet to acknowledge his existence.  
Anthea shook her head at the woman, crossing her arms over her chest. “Really, I can't let you,” She stopped when the woman showed her the off the shoulder cocktail dress with asymmetrical hem; in red, of course. “Oh, that really is quite lovely. Right, carry on.” She replied breathlessly, clearly won over. The other woman grinned as she gave the mouse one final click. “And ordered. Mycroft's using the facilities, he'll be out shortly.”  
“So, I guess that means getting out of his chair before he sees you in it.” Anthea suggested lightly.  
She laughed and it reminded him of a light summer rain.  
“What's he gonna do? Fire me? I wish he would try; I've been so bored.” She sighed, smirking up at the other woman. Oh, he liked this one already!  
The door to the private facilities opened and Mycroft Holmes walked out, wiping his hands and sighing when he saw his chair and his office was occupied.  
“Tempest, I see you're back from your honeymoon; how was the annulment?” Mycroft asked her dryly as she slid out of his chair.  
Wait? This was Tempest?! The one who was supposed to be his handler? Well, this just got more fun!  
The woman shrugged delicately as she fiddled with the white and black diamond hurricane pendant on a silver chain around her throat.  
“Kind of hard to annul a marriage to a dead man, so it went well. Officially, he died of a massive coronary; tragic, really. Dominican Republic was beautiful, though.” She shrugged as if she didn't just confess to murdering her husband in self defense.  
“And unofficially?” Mycroft asked her curiously as he looked at the history of his web browser, sighing, clearly knowing what she had been up to.  
“Unofficially, at least he had a good time before he died. I've given his body to your future sister-in-law; an early wedding present.” She sighed as she sat on his desk, moving files out of her way, her eyes finally landing on Jim.  
Jim grinned at her, deciding to mess with her just a tad.  
“May I just say you look amazing for a widow.” He purred and he meant it. Her dark brown hair was piled at the base of her skull in a mass of curls that was haphazardly pinned into a messy bun, curls escaping from the back of it, brushing the collar of her navy blue dress with cream details. The dress itself was of a slightly vintage style; the ruffled bell sleeves, bow at the neckline and silhouette suggesting an era of times gone past, but the ruffled asymmetrical hemline and the white designer pumps suggested this season.  
Her gray eyes darkened at his offhanded compliment and she glared at him. “All this time we'll be spending together and first thing you want to do is piss me off? And here I thought you were supposed to be a genius...” Her accent was posh with just a hint of an Irish lilt that was very familiar to him.  
Mycroft sighed as he rubbed his temples, fighting off the impending headache that he just knew was coming. “I don't believe you two have been properly introduced. Jim Moriarty, meet Tempest. If you insist on giving him your real name, do so not in my presence. Well, shake hands, get acquainted.” Mycroft ordered as he straightened his files on his desk, reorganizing where Tempest had mixed everything up, on purpose. Jim held out his hand for a shake smiling innocently as Tempest took it, gasping lightly when he took her hand and kissed it instead, his lips purposefully brushing against her bare ring finger on her left hand, an insolent smile on his lips. She ignored the spark from his lips on her skin and glared at him as he smiled wickedly at her; oh, that had really not been a very good idea at all. Mycroft, completely oblivious to this interaction between the two of them, turned to Anthea who had been smiling at her smart phone the whole exchange.  
“Heard from Moran lately?” He asked her.  
“Yes, Sir; he's on his way up now. He'll be joining us for the meet and greet.” She was professional, but there was no hiding the light blush on her cheeks as she answered him. Both troublemakers filed that information away for later as Sebastian Moran, once trusted sniper and right hand man to Jim Moriarty, now turned good just like Jim, walked into the room smiling warmly at Anthea as he kissed her hand, giving her a heated stare which she openly returned. Hmm, when did that happen? Jim wondered to himself as Moran sat in the chair next to him, chuckling as Tempest hugged him tightly. Stepping back, she resumed her position on Mycroft's desk, staring coldly at Jim.  
“Uh-oh, you pissed her off; what did you do?”  
Jim sputtered, the very picture of indignant.  
“What? What did I do?” He asked, all innocence.  
“Be you.” Everyone else replied in unison, grins all around as if sharing in a private joke on his behalf.  
“I'm a wonderful person to be around! Moran, tell them!”  
“You were okayish, I guess.” Moran shrugged.  
“You did try and kill my brother several times.” Mycroft added.  
“Also blew up a few places in London.” Anthea added.  
“Criminal web.” Tempest supplied helpfully.  
“Stole the crown jewels.” Everyone supplied helpfully as he scoffed.  
“Oh, that was so seven years ago!” He whined.  
Mycroft sighed at the way the conversation had deteriorated; he had a feeling this would become a bit of a habit with this group and his brother and his pathologist had yet to join the party.  
“Gentlemen, and ladies, can we please stop the Moriarty witch hunt and focus on the task at hand?” He asked, setting the files to the side and steepling his fingers together on his desk and resting his head on them.  
“Yes, the actual witch hunt. The bombings and attacks have gotten worse. Just like my coven was; more witches and people with abilities are being targeted. Symbol burnt into their foreheads before they are executed.” Tempest paused momentarily and Anthea put a hand on her shoulder gently in comfort. She continued. “And as much as I hate that I am a glorified babysitter to a bored ex criminal-”  
Hey! Jim thought to himself. That's King ex criminal dammit!  
“-I will do what I can to help.” She finished as Mycroft nodded.  
“Glad to hear that, now take the babysat and Moran to car number eleven and let's be on the way, shall we?”  
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded and stood up, smoothing out her skirt.  
Jim perked up at this. “Moran gets the same handler?”  
“No; Moran does not need a handler.” Mycroft scoffed at the very thought as he left the office, thanking Anthea as she opened the door for him, slamming it in Jim's face.  
“Why is she nice to you two?” He whined, rubbing his sore nose.  
“Right, leaving that one the hell alone; follow me.” Tempest rolled her storm gray eyes and led them back to the elevator. Jim tilted his head, clearly looking at her backside as Moran rolled his eyes, following after his former boss and current best friend.  
“Some things really never change.” He shook his head at him playfully as he noticed what his eyes were trained on.  
“Unstable; rebellious; sexy as hell. You know me so well.” Jim grinned at him as he counted off on his fingers, his eyes never leaving her shapely backside.  
“Unattainable; uninterested.” Moran helpfully counted off on his own fingers.  
“For the moment.” Jim shrugged, hurrying after her as she turned around and noticed the both of them lagging behind. “Come on you two, you have a standing date with a consulting detective.” She called and Jim hurried his steps up. “Oh, goody, what is Sherlock up to these days?”  
The two of them share a look and grin.  
“Molly Hooper.”  
“Molly Hooper.” They say once again in unison.  
Molly, elbow deep in the corpse that her friend had dropped off for her was fascinated by what she was seeing. The organs, she discovered, were completely normal; it had been almost as if the body had just given up, which, in a way it had. So, this was what happened when a person's energy was drained until death; fascinating. She sighed as she skipped the report and sewed the body back up, putting him in a drawer. He tried to speak to her, but she waved her hand until his image faded away. She already knew who killed him and why. Sherlock would be getting a whole body to experiment on tonight; talk about giving your body away to science! She snorted at her own joke as she cleaned up after herself, tossing her soiled gloves in the trash bin. She fixed her skirt and hair in the mirror in the locker room as she left the hospital for the night. A big black car greeted her at the curb and she grinned as she climbed in, smiling as her fiance pulled her into his arms.  
“Hello, darling; I missed you.” He grinned as she blushed becomingly.  
“You saw me all this morning until I had to go into work.” She reminded him chuckling softly as he shrugged, tickling her sides as his warm hands traced her bare sides under her favorite cherry jumper, pretty black blouse with the peter pan collar and simple red skirt.  
“Semantics. You were still missed, greatly.” Sherlock whispered against her cheek as he gently turned her head to align his lips with hers. The kiss soon turned from sweet and gentle to hands roaming under purple dress shirts and cherry jumpers and black blouses as they both broke apart breathless.  
“I don't suppose we could skip this meeting?” He asked, but not hopeful as he had already deduced the answer to his question.  
“You and I both know that your brother would come looking for us, and probably send in MI5 agents for the both of us.” She sighed, shaking her head as he shrugged and kissed her neck anyway.  
“Yes, but it would be quite fun until that happened.” He teased her as he, well, teased her.  
She sighed, dreamily licking her suddenly dry lips.  
“I have a present for you.” She murmured, squeaking when his hands started to slowly go up her skirt, his finger tips sliding up her thighs.  
“Mm, do you?” He asked her huskily, pouting cutely as she slapped his hands away gently.  
“Now, Sherlock, none of that or we won't go where we need to.” She chastised him gently, dulling the sting of her words by kissing him on the cheek softly.  
“No, I have a body that honestly cannot exist, a whole cadaver for your experiments.”  
He hugged her tightly, smiling from ear to ear.  
“Oh, Molly Hooper, you spoil me so.” He pulled her to him and kissed her, picking her up and sliding her onto his lap, his hands pulling her skirt up and around her hips, and this time she did not slap his hands away.  
The car ride with Jim, Moran, and Tempest was a lot less exciting; Moran and Tempest were doing most of the talking as Jim watched them, taking in every detail. The way that she laughed, the easy way he set his hand on her knee, the overall comfort she showed around him; he smiled, figuring out their secret.  
“So, how long had you two been lovers?” He asked them, expecting shock and outrage; he had not been expecting them to bloody laugh at him.  
“Oh my god? Me and Moran? No! He's like a brother to me! Besides, he's been with Anthea for what? Two and a half years now?” She asks him as he nods.  
“Yeah; neither one of us believes in marriage, but we're not going anywhere.” He answered, shrugging.  
“You know she said that just to make you feel better, right?” Tempest asked him softly as both men looked at her, eyebrows raised in question.  
“She was way into those bridal and wedding magazines for someone who doesn't think that way. Might want to reopen that conversation for later, or don't; its up to you.” Tempest shrugged as her attention turned to Jim.  
“So, you're taking this whole thing rather well; the 'now working for people you used to work against on a daily basis'.” She observed as he grinned at her.  
“Eh, I came here on my terms, not theirs, and New York was getting rather boring. Only insider trading and murder plots; no fun or originality, really. Then, the attack happened and well, no one tries to kill me and gets away with it.” He shrugged eloquently as she nodded.  
“I lost my entire coven to them. Joining was really a no-brainer. Now, I'm one of the most powerful agents and I still get to be the big bad witch. Not happy I wasted ten months of my life on a guy that turned out to be an enemy, but I should have known someone so normal had something to hide.” She grinned, shaking her head.  
He grinned at that.  
“About that, was the sex at least decent?” He asked her, already knowing the answer as her cheeks heated up.  
“It wasn't terrible... for him.” She giggled sighing, suddenly going quiet as his hand landed on her knee, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.  
“If you ever want to have the best sex of your life, I'm just in the room across the hall. I won't break so easily. It'll be unforgettable.” He whispered as he felt the energy in the vehicle crackle around him before he found himself pinned to the seat, unable to move.  
“Mr. Moriarty, that is highly inappropriate and I will only give you this warning once; do not for one second think I am one of those little American birds you can seduce and then discard. Once you stop trying to get under my skirt, then perhaps this arrangement will work a bit better. I am not and will never be interested. Do I make myself clear?” She demanded, her eyes swirling gray like storm clouds as she let her energy drop from him and he was able to move again.  
Oh, holy fuck, she was powerful! He liked that in a woman!  
He sucked in a breath as he leaned back in his seat, his hand still on her knee as he squeezed it gently as her breath caught.  
“That was so hot!” He exclaimed as she and Moran groaned and rolled their eyes at him.  
She sighed, slapping his hand away as he grinned at her.  
“Ooh, Stormy likes it rough.” He cooed, soothing his stinging hand.  
“Stormy?” She asked him, wrinkling her nose in confusion.  
“Yes, your name from now on to me until you tell me your real name.” He replied grinning at her.  
“Fine. Vanessa.”  
“Oh, lovely name. Have a last name?”  
“Everwood.” She supplied, just before she slipped ear buds in and closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out.  
“Why does everyone keep doing that?”  
“Have you met you?” Moran asked him with a grin.  
The safe house where all of them would be staying and working out of, with the exception of Mycroft and Anthea, as they both had flats that were close enough to the safe house, was more like a mansion than anything; the common room was large enough to fit several overstuffed sofas and chairs, a large marble fireplace, and columns that led to a marble staircase that held the private living quarters, the other halls down stairs led to a huge library and office where they would be working most of the time and a gourmet kitchen big enough for a table for all of them to eat around and all state of the art appliances. A cleaning service would be coming in once a week, but other than that the inhabitants were expected to keep a neat household. Jim and his small group were the first to arrive and therefore the first to claim rooms. As promised, Jim had made sure that his room was just across the hall from Vanessa's, just in case, with a bathroom to be shared by both of them. Sebastian had chosen the one room downstairs since Anthea would be visiting and he wanted privacy; Holmes and Hooper would be taking the other room in the hall opposite to his. Vanessa had retired to her room to unpack her small bag; her new clothes were not set to arrive until the next day, so Jim had a few minutes to unpack his things from his leather bag and set his laptop up on the wifi network. Password? Oh, please; he had hacked systems like this all the time. Starting the download on a few songs, he whistled a song he had heard the other day and left his room.  
Vanessa sighed as she unpacked her small bag, hanging the couple of dresses in the closet, and putting the underwear and beloved pajama sets in the dresser. Her laptop was already on and she had a few movies downloading for later. Really could not beat MI5 wifi speed when it came to downloading things. Hearing noises outside her door that were most decidedly an unsupervised Jim, she left the room. And was hit on almost immediately once again.  
“You know, we have a little time before the others arrive, we could always..”  
“Get a drink because dealing with you requires ample amounts of whiskey, sure.” She finished for him, storm gray eyes rolling heavenwards as she followed him downstairs and to the bar in the living room. He grinned as he followed after her, oh yeah, he liked this one!  
“This place is like out of a fairy tale!” Molly gushed as she and Sherlock walked through the front door of the safe house at last, still adjusting their clothing from their dalliance in the town car.  
“Yes, even includes the big bad wolf and the wicked witch.” Jim replied dryly from the bar where he and Vanessa still sat with their drinks. “More like Big Bad Wolf and Dracula.” She muttered to herself as she sipped her whiskey. She drank it straight, not minding the burn down her throat.  
Molly jumped when she heard his voice and Sherlock pulled her behind him protectively.  
“Moriarty.” He hissed and Vanessa rolled her eyes.  
“Is this display of the male ego going to take very long? You're both here. Both on the same side, deal with it. Hello, Molly, you look radiant.” Molly grinned at her as she came from behind her fiance, walking to her with her arms outstretched for a warm hug.  
Did she hug everyone but him? Well, she hadn't hugged Sherlock or Mycroft either.  
Molly stepped back from the hug, still grinning.  
“I loved your present! It was fascinating. No wounds of any kind I did all sorts of tests. I thought you err.” Realizing that Jim was very interested in the women's conversation, she trailed off self consciously.  
Vanessa shrugged, not really caring that he was eaves dropping. “Usually I do, with him I wanted it to be quick. Did he say anything to you?”  
“He tried to, but I already know who killed him and why so I waved him away.” Molly replied as if this conversation was completely normal.  
Sebastian walked back into the main room and nodded at Sherlock and Molly as he sat down next to Vanessa.  
“Mycroft and Anthea will not be making it, as they have been summoned by the Queen so I guess we just start the meeting and go our separate ways for the night.”  
Vanessa nodded as she sighed.  
“Wait, when is the last time that you had a full feed? What's to stop you from going on a binge with us?” Sherlock demanded the woman as she smiled sweetly at him.  
“Pinky promise?” Sherlock groaned at her response.  
“I'm not some blood thirsty creature of the night, I just have certain needs. If the need arises for a late night Ben and Jerry's run, I will have Sebby take over Jim sitting for a few hours and come back. No harm done and no killing, god, you're boring.” She sighed, draining her drink and pouring another.  
“The only one who would actually probably be in danger is Jim, he keeps baiting her.” Sebby smirked at the two of them. That and he knew about a past between them that Jim had been forced to forget. And that pissed off Vanessa even more.  
“Well, without your brother and his all knowing files, this meeting is pretty much a meet and greet. So, unless we have other things to discuss, you are dismissed, enjoy the rest of your night.” She ended the meeting, completely ignoring Sebby's comment.  
Everyone left but Jim and Vanessa, stuck with him until he went into his room for the night. Of course, he decided to take his time, just to irk her nerves.  
“You know, this is going to sound completely corny, but I feel as if we've done this before. Us drinking together.” He said softly as the whiskey bottle rolled out of numb fingers and would have crashed to the floor if not for lightning fast reflexes that had it returned to its spot on the bar.  
“Do you really not remember me?” She demanded whirling on him.  
“What?”  
“Did I mean so little to you?”  
Oh shit, there were tears in her eyes and suddenly her lips were on his, the kiss desperate like she was drowning and he was oxygen. They broke apart out of necessity, her looking deep into his eyes as if he held the answers for life itself. Not finding the ones she was looking for, she stood up and ran away, leaving him sitting there, stunned.  
“What the hell was that?”


	2. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just who is Jim to Vanessa? Is there more going on than meets the eye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at updating, so you get two chapters instead of one!   
> Please read and review, if you like it, tell me!

Sobbing, she ran to Sebastian's room, throwing herself into his arms when he opened the door.   
“Oh hell, you tried to break the spell.” He muttered, taking one look at her as he hugged her back.  
“Spell?” She demanded, dropping her arms from around him.  
“Yeah, did you really think he would just move on like that? Even he's not that cold.”   
Eyes full of swirling storm clouds glared up at the man.  
“Tell me exactly what happened.”  
“You know that sweet old lady that he blew up during his and Sherlock's first game? The one who said his voice was soft?”  
“Yes. He told me all about that.” She nodded, impatient for him to continue with his story.  
“Well, she had a granddaughter who was one powerful and pissed off witch. She followed him for years and waited until he had true happiness in his hands, you. You left for a mission for two weeks and she got to him the day he went to the jewelry store for a ring. She made it a game, gave him twelve hours to get his affairs in order, but he could not contact you in any way or it would go into affect immediately. He mailed me the ring with a letter explaining everything. I tried to tell him and his brain couldn't handle it. The spell had him in a coma for three days, he almost didn't pull through. The spell can only be broken if he dies for the one he loves. Kind of a dick move making that the spell breaker, but hey he did blow up her grandma.” Sebby shrugged as Vanessa sagged against him.  
“All this time. I thought he cheated on me...” She groaned softly.  
“If he did, he didn't know he did.”  
“Is there a rule against him falling in love with me again?” She asked him, rubbing her temples.  
“No? Think you can do it again, have all those memories of a lifetime ago?”  
“I've got to try.” She replied softly.  
“Does this mean you forgive him?”  
“Hell no.” She replied without hesitation.  
“Err, right then. You have a consulting criminal turned criminal consultant to reclaim and I have a pressing need to sleep. Off you go! And Nessa?”  
She turned around at the door at her nickname.  
“Yes?”  
“Good luck, you're gonna need it. He's bloody insufferable these days!”  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sebby.”  
“Anytime.” And with that, the door shut firmly in her face and she sighed as she walked back to the bar, where he still was, drinking as if nothing had ever happened.  
“I believe you owe me an explanation.”  
“Yes, we have met before; no, don't try to remember. I can't give you any more details than that. Coming upstairs?” She asked him suddenly.  
“What?” He asked her, not sure if he heard her right.  
“Coming upstairs to bed? Your bed, I mean. We have an early day tomorrow.” She crinkled her brow at him, smiling.  
“What did you think I meant?” She asked him coyly.   
“I-just, nevermind, yes.” He nodded, as he downed the rest of his drink and followed the intriguing woman upstairs.


	3. Blast from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How they met....the first time.

London, Seven years ago:  
It had been five days after he had been 'given' to Little Holmes as a Christmas present and he was already bored. When the text arranging another meeting with Elder Holmes popped up on his phone he didn't even hesitate to say yes. If nothing else, it would be entertaining. He and Sebastian drove to the cottage where the meeting was scheduled to be held and waited patiently as they were let in through the front door. Instead of the man himself, they were greeted by Anthea, Mycroft's beautiful yet mysterious personal assistant and a younger woman they had never met before. The newcomer wore a red, white, and blue plaid peter pan collar button up dress with a plaid skirt and side bow that fell just below her knees, a solid red bodice reminiscent of a catholic school girl buttoned up to her neck and ending at her elbows; her dark hair was half up in a crystal storm cloud barrette, the ends curling past her shoulders, and her high heeled lace up black ankle boots had red tribal swirls near the heel. She looked at the both of them with gray intelligent eyes as she followed Anthea through the cottage to the living room where the meeting was to be held.  
“Boys, this is Tempest; she'll be with us on these meetings from now on. Tempest, this is Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran; I'm sure you've read their files already.” Anthea replied as she sat down, the rest of them sitting down across from her.  
Tempest's eyes widened guiltily. “No, I'm afraid I'd hadn't yet; I was about to when I was called in.” She admitted, frowning slightly as Anthea sighed.  
Jim rolled his eyes at the clear incompetence of this new assistant and sighed.  
“So, I take it Mycroft is late or isn't coming?” He asked, already having guessed the answer.  
“He's detained in traffic, but he is coming; I've been given authorization to start without him.” Anthea replied smoothly as Tempest checked her smart phone, smiling at it, clearly texting and not paying attention in the slightest.  
“Very well, I granted him a favor; this time, he owes me. I want twelve hours with his laptop supervised of course; fair is fair.” He demanded; start big, then work to what you really want, that was the best way he had learned how to handle one Mycroft Holmes.  
“And what will you give us in return, Mr. Moriarty?” Tempest asked him without even looking up from her phone.  
Rude!  
He smiled condescendingly at her, the expression not reaching his dead calculating eyes.  
“Excuse me, the adults are talking.” He waved his hand, as if to dismiss her.  
“Fine.” She shrugged, sighing dramatically as she tapped away on her phone. Just then, the special text alert sounded on his secret smart phone that let him know someone in his web had been arrested. He cursed as he checked it. South China seas, the entire property. This was a big one to lose. And then another. Brazil. Then the last one. Russia. Fuck!  
She sighed as she showed him the screen of her phone at last, showing all of the information he had just received.  
“Now, are you ready to share, or do I need to take more of your toys away?” She asked him quietly as his eyes lit up.  
“Clearly, one of us had underestimated the other.” He assented as she grinned, looking over as a knock sounded at the door.  
“Anthea, be a dear and let Crofty in, please.”  
“Yes, Ma'am.” She stood up and walked out of the room.  
He couldn't help himself as he started to slowly applaud the other woman's performance.  
“Brava! I must admit, you had me going there. What with the innocent yet incompetent act and the younger dress, you look what, twenty five?”  
She frowned lightly.  
“This is how I dress and I am thirty actually, I just age well. As for the innocent act, Mycroft would have ruined it when he came in; he does so like to spoil my fun. He doesn't believe the bosses should have any enjoyment out of life.”  
His eyebrows rose at that statement. “Bosses? I thought you were just one of his agents.”  
“Actually, she's a higher up; only one higher is me. Dear god, Tempest, do we need to drop you off for confession?” Mycroft teased her as he took in her dress for the day.  
She smiled sweetly, looking him up and down as he blushed lightly.  
Hmm, interesting.  
“That's rich, coming from the man who owns the same suit in every color. At least Mr. Moriarty's ties are fun.”  
“Keep in mind his ties may be fun, but there is still blood on his hands.”   
“Keep in mind we are the government, so there is plenty on ours as well. Anthea opened up negotiations, he was less than cooperative so I got bored and okayed the seizure of three of his biggest bases around the world. If he's nice, he might get them back; if not, we can always water board a few of them to find three more.” She grinned as Jim's mouth dropped open in surprise.  
“Oh, you.”  
Mycroft rolled his eyes heavenwards.  
“Tempest, we do not water board.”  
“Tactical baptism then.” Tempest corrected, rolling her eyes as Mycroft groaned lightly.  
Jim leaned forward grinning.  
“And why haven't you brought her to any previous meetings? I like her!”  
Mycroft sighed the sigh of the truly martyred.   
“That is precisely why! Now, what do you want?”  
“Your laptop and me in the same room for twelve hours, supervised of course.” He smiled charmingly.  
“Absolutely not. Try again.”  
“Well, now I want my toys back. Trade the names of three active terrorist organizations in exchange for all of them. Throw in two assassinations and a kidnapping that would cause a national incident, but I want my two favorite shows switched back on with unlimited access.”  
“Give me the three terrorist cells first and we will see about the rest.”  
He gave them one, just to test it out. Mycroft turned to Tempest as she sent a text on her phone.   
His all clear message came through and he was back in business in Brazil.  
Without hesitation, he gave them the other two.  
Hello, South China seas and Russia, oh how Daddy missed you!  
“I've considered your other offer and I will agree to it, only if you swear you will not use any information gleaned from this in your games with my brother and if the cameras are discovered, I will personally send a team in to take them away myself.”  
“Great! Now, the first two are in Argentina, the Prime Minister's daughter in law wants him out of the way so her husband can take over; the second is in Bolivia, the president was due to be killed over a civil war the people are trying to start and the kidnapping is a Greek official's daughter to be taken until the currency wars are over. Moran, hand him the names please.”  
Moran, handed Mycroft the neatly folded list of names and Mycroft sighed.   
“Thank you, Mr. Moran. That concludes our business; Mr. Moriarty, do you have any further questions?”  
“One.” He turned to Tempest, a charming smile on his lips.  
“What are you doing for New Year's Eve?”  
Mycroft groaned at the question as Tempest shrugged coyly.  
“Probably drinking a bottle of wine and sharing takeaway with my cat, why? Got a better offer?” She asked him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.  
His eyes lit up with interest.  
“What? No line about mixing business with pleasure?” He purred mockingly.  
“Who says there'll be pleasure?” She countered grinning.  
“Oh, trust me, there would be.”   
“Children, if you are done flirting, we will be going now. Tempest, come.”  
Sighing, she tapped something on her mobile before walking away, not giving him a second glance.  
They were gone when his phone pinged.  
[Pick me up at 8, outside the fox.-T]  
Of course she would have gotten his number without him ever giving it to her.  
He grinned when he read the text, showing it to Moran who whistled grinning and shaking his head.  
“Should have known you'd have a thing for the woman who threatened your empire.”  
[It's a date; dress for a party.-JM] He hit send and stood up to leave the meeting place.  
“Sebastian, I do believe you will have to entertain yourself that night.”  
“I do believe you are right.”  
Vanessa Arianne Everwood, or Tempest as she was more well known as sighed as she worried her bottom lip in her teeth, turning this way and that as she studied her reflection in the full length mirror. The dress was wine red, one of her preferred colors, long, with a slit that ended just above the knee, low cut with a strap across her chest and little cap sleeves that exposed her shoulders; she looked amazing in it, but it had no other decorations. He'd given her no details and she had decided that she would wear whatever and damn him if it was too much or too little.  
Groaning in frustration, she picked her mobile up and sent him a text.  
[Alright, I give up, what are you wearing?-T]  
He answered immediately.  
[Ooooh, feeling naughty, are we?-JM]  
[I meant to the party....-T]  
[Spoil my fun.... a tuxedo.-JM]  
She sighed in relief, her dress choice would be perfect then.  
[Thank you.-T]  
[See you soon.-JM]  
Once the matter of what dress to wear was resolved, figuring out details like hair and makeup was easily done. She piled half of her hair up on her head in an intricate knot, the rest she let curl loosely down her back, her lips were the same color as her dress and her eyes were dark and mysterious. Wrapping herself in her silk lined violet peacoat, she made her way to the designated meeting spot.  
He grinned as he watched her from his hiding spot a little bit away, she didn't seem to be nervous exactly, but she was fidgeting a bit. He could tell it was anticipation more than cold, but he decided to put them both out of their misery and made his way over to her. He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, surprised when she didn't jump in surprise, just turned around with a smile on her lips.  
“Good evening, Mr. Moriarty.” She greeted him and he rolled his eyes lightly amused at her formality; if there was a light shiver of desire that ran through him at the way she said his last name, so be it.  
“Darling, we are about to be in each other's arms, dancing and I hope a whole lot more; please call me Jim at least and I shall call you?” He rose an eyebrow at her, daring her to give her real name. Not just yet.  
“Tempest. And we shall see about this more.” She corrected him, hiding a small smile when he didn't get what he wanted right away. Where would the fun be in that? He sighed, extending his arm out to her like a proper gentleman. “Shall we then, Tempest?” She grinned, taking it and he led her to a long black town car not at all dissimilar to the ones Mycroft uses. She wondered for a moment if they used the same car service before she was helped inside and he sat very close to her, crowding her on purpose and her mind stuttered before it stopped completely. He grinned when he heard the little intake of breath that his nearness caused her. He smelled of leather, sandalwood, and mint, a smell that would always remind her of sin and of Jim. She smelled of wild flowers just after a rain storm a balance of delicate and power that had his head spinning and traces of “Lavender and Chamomile?” He had no idea he'd spoken aloud until she answered him.   
“Yes, a candle I had burning when I was showering and getting ready; you can smell that?” She asked him, surprised that he had picked up such a minute detail, sniffing her own wrist lightly. He grinned, taking the opportunity and using it to his advantage. “Actually, it's strongest, just here.” Gently he moved her hair away and traced an index finger over the pulse point the collar of her coat had exposed, grinning when he felt it flutter under his light caress. He used that finger to tip her head back gently, his lips now caressing the spot his finger had just moments before. She whimpered softly, wine colored nails digging into her palms to keep herself from pulling him closer.  
“M-Mycroft thinks I'm crazy to accept to have accepted your invitation, he thinks you may want revenge for that little stunt I pulled during the meeting.” She admitted breathlessly and he grinned against her skin, not pulling back.  
“And, what do you think?” He asked her against her pulse.  
“I can't when you do that.” She sighed, half delirious from just that little touch.  
“Mm, good answer.” He sunk his teeth in gently on that spot, leaving the tiniest of marks as she gasped, melting against him. He leaned up, a satisfied smile on his lips as she stared at him with slightly glazed eyes.  
“Now, why would I want to hurt or destroy someone who actually challenges me? That would be boring. Might be fun to have an MI5 agent in my pocket.” He teased her lightly as she caught her breath, the intelligence slowly returning to her stormy gaze as she backed away slowly, him following her across the seat.  
“Yeah, that would never happen.” She promised him and he took it for what it clearly was, a challenge.  
“Still, Mycroft allowed you to come out tonight.”  
She shakes her head at his statement.  
“Mycroft doesn't own me; I make my own decisions, I'm a big girl, and he knows that I can handle myself, and you, if need be.”  
“Oh my, Tempest, are you trying to seduce me?” He teased her as she rolled her eyes at him playfully.  
“Not even. So, where are we going anyway?” She asked him, leaning over him to look out the window, her body brushing against his, her practically in his lap, hiding a small smile when he sucked in a breath. Payback for him biting her. She just couldn't resist.  
“A party.” He answered, not letting her up when she moved to sit back up, loving this little power struggle between them. Giving in momentarily, she rested in his lap, humming softly when his hands tangled in the curls of her hair, gently stroking them but not messing them up. He had a very light touch when he wanted to. His fingers toyed with the back of her neck almost absently as he grinned at the small purr that slipped out of her lips.   
“No necklace?”   
“The neckline of the dress is weird, it wouldn't look right.” She answered him, completely relaxed.  
“But you're not against wearing one, right?” He asked her curiously, raising an eyebrow as she looked up at him just as curious.  
“What an odd question... No, I'm not against wearing one. Why? Have a shiny new collar all picked out for me already?” She had been teasing but she did not miss the way his dark pupils dilated slowly before he blinked and they returned to normal again.  
“I like to give little gifts every now and then to my... Interests.”  
“Ah, so I am an Interest to you.” She grinned in spite of herself. This might not be a good thing.  
“Someone who not only deceives me but also threatens my empire on the first meeting is definitely an Interest to me.” She shrugged lightly. “I went against his suggestion, he wanted me to either stay in the shadows or to introduce myself immediately, but I admit, I wanted to play a bit.”  
“It's not much fun is it, staying in the shadows?” He knew that feeling all too well.  
“You know it's not.” She answered as the car pulled up to a stop in front of a heavily lit canopy nearly overburdened with lights.  
The hotel was one of the fancy ones she had only ever dreamed of being able to go inside; the party itself was in the giant ballroom, a room full of people she didn't know. The man at the door took her coat gently and she blushed when Jim took in her full appearance and nodded approvingly as he took her hand and kissed it, leading her into the party. She blushed even more when people all around them stopped what they were doing and stared openly at them.  
“Are you going to introduce me to anyone?” She finally asked as he led her past all the people and onto the dance floor and he grinned down at her, like he was sharing a secret joke.  
“Why would I? I don't know these people.”  
“Then why are we here?”  
“I acquired an invitation from someone who would no longer be needing it, it said bring a plus one. Thought of you.” He answered her, quite at ease with the confession of what had most likely been a murder. She opened her mouth to reply, when he suddenly grabbed her by the hand and spun her out onto the dance floor, her recovering quite quickly as her long skirt swirled around her, the slit showing a bit of creamy skin as she spun back to his arms.  
“Mm, quick on your feet. I like that.” He praised her as they danced to the music playing, her moves shifting to match his own, not stumbling once.  
“Have to be to do what I do for a living.” She replied as he dipped her low, the ends of her hair trailing the floor before he swept her back up.  
“Ballet?”  
“Ballroom dance and a little ballet.”  
“Hobby or parents made you?”  
“Little of both; I enjoyed Ballroom more than Ballet.”  
“Ah, an heiress then; why are you an agent and not on some millionaire's arm that would be willing to do anything for you?”  
“Aren't I?”  
“Ah, good one.” He grinned at their exchange as the music changed to a faster pace and he pulled her closer to prevent her from getting knocked down by the fumbling large man and his quite obviously drunk partner that were all over the dance floor. She gasped as she was now fully pressed against him, and he was not letting her pull away this time; his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. He found a dark alcove to the side where they could catch their breath, and he pulled the curtain to the side and then let the curtain drop separating them from the crowd. A small velvet fainting couch took up most of the small area and he gently pulled her down onto his lap as he sat down, his fingers tangling in her hair at the nape of her neck. She shivered when his lips found her neck in the darkness. “I thought you didn't like being in the shadows.” She whispered breathlessly as he tipped her head back, kissing down to her collarbone, nipping one and then the other, his lips ghosting over the strap on her chest before working his way up to her mouth. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other.   
“Mm, I find if I bring someone who's used to them with me, it's a lot more enjoyable.” She nodded, her lips brushing his just barely. They were so close, she felt his grin against her lips before he pulled back slightly, his head tilting as if he could see her clearly in the dark. He could, but she didn't need to know that. He felt her tremble in his arms, and he gently pressed his lips to hers, once, twice.  
She sighed, pulling back slightly to catch her breath.  
“Vanessa.” The name was like a burst of light in the darkness, and it surprised even him.  
“What?”  
“My name is Vanessa.”  
He smiled in the dark, drawing her closer, his mouth covering hers finally; she gasped at the intensity of the kiss. No more teasing and tasting, this was a battle of wills and tongues and teeth. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he gently pulled until he angled her the way he wanted her so he could feast from her mouth. He leaned forward so they were laying on the fainting couch, mouths fused together. Usually, his hands would have been up her skirt, testing how far she would let him go this first time, but he was content to stay like this. They broke the kiss to breathe, neither one realizing that their breaths were matched perfectly.  
“You know, there's an old Irish wives tale that if a man and woman kiss on New Years Eve at midnight, they'll be lovers until the next New Years Eve.” He whispered against her neck, tracing his tongue idly over her racing pulse.   
“Oh, that is dangerous. Best to not be kissing then.” Vanessa whispered as she gently pulled his head back up to kiss him once more, neither one of them hearing the count down and then the chorus of “Happy New Year!”


End file.
